Colours
by AzaleaBlue
Summary: A missing moment set during DH, during their stay in the Shell Cottage. Ron and Hermione, both still broken after the incidents at the Manor, try healing together. Sinfully Romione Fest'18 Entry for Pride. Rated only for language


a/n: My Sinfully Romione Fest entry for the category: Pride

* * *

The clap of thunder was louder this time, booming ominously close. High waves crashed against the cliff-side, methodically, continuously, as the sky streaked with flash after flash of white light. Ron hurried down the staircase, the fury of nature masking his footsteps as he made his way towards the small room on the first landing. He pushed open the door in a hurry, and she turned with a jolt at the sound. He didn't miss how her fingers clasped around the armrest of the couch she was resting on, and he groaned, quickening his pace to reach her.

"You okay there?" he asked as he came to a halt next to her, and perched himself on the said armrest. His anxiety dimmed with her proximity, and she scooted a little before placing her arm on his thighs and rested her body against him instantly.

"Yes," she said in a small voice and returned to staring at the open cliff-side that was now being lashed by mother nature's fury.

The gale howling beyond the glass windows slashed through the trees that swayed uncontrolled. But the room had been sealed to shut out external noises to ensure nothing disturbed her. The wind, however, still managed to sneak inside through the gaps in the wood panels, the strange whistling breaking the peaceful silence.

Resting awkwardly against the backrest, Ron turned his attention to his companion. Her hair was untied, however, they were neither as bushy nor seemed to crackle with energy like during their Hogwarts days. Instead, they hung in thick, limp curls, reaching till her waist. It had grown longer than he had ever seen her with. Despite their lacklustre state, they were the only spot of colour on her; in stark contrast to her pale, malnourished skin. Even the dull grey, full sleeved jumper she wore had more colour to it.

"It seems like the rain will wash away the world tonight," she observed, and Ron forced his eyes away from her to watch the murky outdoor.

"Glad we aren't in a freaking tent in this weather," he replied.

She ran her index finger in lazy patterns across his jeans covered thigh, seemingly lost in thoughts. Ron wrapped an arm around her shoulder pulling her closer and resumed his observation.

 _Had her cheeks filled out a little? Perhaps it was only wishful thinking on his part._ She was still way too thin, a strap of her bra was visible from under her jumper, a pale cream almost blending with her skin tone.

He traced the faint scar on her neck with the tip of his finger and this time Hermione's eyes found him. He reached for her hand and wrapped his long fingers around her smaller, softer ones and grasped tightly, not willing to let go- forever- if he had any say at all in the matter. She looked so exhausted and weak that he wished he could wrap himself around her and hide her from the world. But the vulnerability was only physical. Her eyes shone with the strength he knew resided in that heart- the true Gryffindor heart of a lioness. _Who else could face Bellatrix's curses and still hold her ground, keep the rest of them safe?_

Absentmindedly, he wrapped a curly lock around his index finger of his free hand and rested his chin on top of her head. A soft chuckle emitted from her and he smiled, breathing deeply through his nose, the knot in his heart lessening a tiny bit.

How would he love to do this all his life- have a home, however small, but somewhere close to the sea and just watch the rain, snowfall, sunrise and sunset- with her beside him- every, single day, for the rest of his life.

"Ron?"

"Hmm?"

"I wonder when we'll be able to watch the rain without thinking of the Dementors…"

He sighed tiredly and rubbed her arms over the woollen sleeve. "Soon, I think."

"Yes, I can almost feel it in my bones. We are getting close."

He blew out through his mouth, dismounted the couch's armrest and sank on his knees in front of her. Taking both her hands in his, he began to rub soothing circles on her knuckles with the pad of his thumb, gazing deeply into her eyes.

It took him awhile to get the sentences out, entangled as they were amidst a hundred varying emotions, all encapsulated by a bunch of jittery nerves. But the longer he watched her, the more his breathing eased, one heartbeat at a time.

"Y'know, a part of me wants to hide you somewhere," he managed finally, "keep you way beyond the reach of those fuckers." He cut her protest by placing a quick peck on her lips and smiled as her cheeks coloured slightly, feeling happy for more reasons than one.

"But I won't," he told her. "And not just because you are stronger than that, but because they need to know they can't break you."

Hermione bit her lower lip and grabbed his hand firmly within her warm ones. "You know, I would've never managed it if I didn't hear you calling me," she replied, and when she looked up he saw moisture glinting in her eyes.

He placed his head on her lap and she wrapped her arms around him. "It was the worst day of my life," he admitted, words muffled in her embrace.

"I know,"

"And I'll die before I let them touch you ever again." He looked up and met her eyes. The strong girl behind those tired features looked back at him with all the silent resilience she possessed.

"You truly are the brightest witch of our age, Hermione, brightest and bravest. Harry and I were talking about it yesterday. Can't imagine how you thought of that lie so spontaneously."

"I don't know," she confessed, "It was the first-"

"-thing you could think of?" he finished for her, and they chuckled together. It was nothing but her strength that could make her laugh about something like that.

"Yes,"

"You're brilliant, Hermione, you truly are, brave and fierce and …" he stopped, running out of words that could do justice to how proud he was of her.

"Really? I thought I was a know-it-all and a nightmare," she teased, and Ron kissed her on the lips again. He didn't have any reason for it other than the desire to capture her smile in his memories, to taste it off her lips- it was such a rare emotion of late, rare and priceless.

"Eleven-year-old Ron was an idiot, didn't know the difference between a nightmare and a dream."

Her cheeks flooded crimson this time, and for a while, he found a glimpse of a much younger Hermione, the barmy girl he had fallen head-over-heels in love with. Her smile seemed to brighten the room, dim the melancholy that had become almost omnipresent in their life and filled him with hope.

He pushed himself firmly on his knees and cupping her face, placed his lips firmly on hers. He just saw her eyelids flutter shut before he closed his eyes too, and swallowed the soft moan that escaped her. Hermione wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him into herself just as his lip sucked on hers. He couldn't exactly pinpoint how she tasted, only realised that she tasted like happiness and relief. Ron snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her closer till he could practically feel her heart beating against his. Hermione deepened the kiss and a billion tiny lights exploded in his brain, brighter than the sparks of lightning, eradicating every trace of darkness his nightmares had ever created.

The separated after years, maybe even lifetimes, and words he had thought over for years now, tumbled out easily. "I love you, 'Ermione, love you so bloody much…" he managed in a raspy voice.

She was smiling brightly but she was also crying and yet, to him, she looked pretty as a picture. After a while, she wiped off her tears on the back of her sleeve and sniffed before she spoke. "I have waited so many years for this,"

"And I've waited so long to tell you," he replied, pressing his forehead to hers and wiping the trickling drops off her cheeks with his fingers. "Always hoped you knew it, though…" he added.

"I did but to hear you say it…"

"I know… I'm sorry… but we live in bat-shite crazy times."

She chucked. It was a sad kinda laugh but cocooned in the warmth of each other, nothing seemed too dark. Now he had both hope and reason to look forward to life.

"RON! HERMIONE!"

Bill's voice was a rude reminder that all was still not well, the battle was yet to be won.

"COMING IN A BIT!" he yelled back

"Look, Ron, the storm cleared!"

Ron turned around, and sure enough, the wind and rain had stopped. The clouds were parting, a thin strip of clear sky glittering with stars visible in the far horizon.

He picked himself up and extended his hand for her to hold. Once she was on her feet, he placed a quick peck on her temple. "Shall we go?" he asked and she nodded, smiling.

He wrapped his arm around her, her weight balancing mostly on him, but they had taken barely a couple of steps before she stopped and tugged on his arm. He turned to her, confused and also worried...

And then it was just like their fifth year, only so much better. She tiptoed, wrapped her arms around his waist and kissed him right on the mouth. "I'm sure you know it already, but… I love you too, Ron, I always have," she whispered against his lips.

He found his voice a solid minute later. Bells seemed to be ringing in his ears and he was sure he could fly if he tried. "Blimey!" he grinned like an idiot, rubbing the back of his neck and she placed a quick peck on his stubbled cheek, chuckling at his expression.

"RON!"

"COMING!" she replied this time and tugged on his arm. "Come on, Ron, we must really go now. They'll wonder what we are up to."

"Do you think they'll guess it?" he asked as they moved to the landing, Hermione shutting the door behind them.

She pondered for a bit. "Fleur probably will, Harry obviously won't," she replied laughing and he joined in.

Yes, although it had taken a while for everything to sort itself, colour had finally returned to his life.


End file.
